Targets of Opportunity (41 page)

“Mine too. Once Hwang is back, with or without you, he’ll be able to identify your brother.”

“He may, this is true. But first he must find him.”

Now Sandor stopped, gently took her by the arm, and turned her toward him. “What are you saying?”

Hea showed him a diffident smile. “We have plans for such things, you see? Your arrival in my country was not a surprise, Sandor. You know that?”

He nodded.

“You Americans are funny people, I think. You act as if nothing exists until you arrive. You understand this? There are many cultures for thousands of years before yours, yet you believe you are the inventors of everything, that nothing happens until you do it. Am I saying this right?”

Sandor laughed for what seemed the first time in quite a while. “I get the point, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It is not an evil thing. I believe you mean well by it. It is, um, charming, I think is the word.”

“So are you,” he said, then thought he saw her blush in the moonlight.

“We worked with Kyung, he knew you were coming, we arranged the, um, contact at the festival, yes?”

“Was your brother always part of the plan too?”

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“From the beginning?”

“He was ready if he was needed.”

“And the rest of your family?”

“Arrangements are made for such things. It is not easy, and I can see from your face you do not believe me, but we do things even when you Americans are not there to help,” she said, the smile returning. “My people are all prisoners, and some of us work for our freedom. Do you understand?”

Now Jordan gave her his best smile. “Do
I
understand? Yes, yes I do. So your family is safe, but where? In the South?”

“It does not matter. It was time for them to go.”

“But what about you? What happens to you if they send you back?”

Her look of amusement vanished as she said, “This is the risk we take. Perhaps it would be better if I was never leaving the country with you. We had no way to knowing your men would be captured.”

“So what is that supposed to mean, that you’ll agree to go back? Hea, they’ll murder you. And worse. And then your family will be at risk again. They’ll force you to tell them where they’ve gone.”

A look of serenity replaced the fear that had flickered for a moment in her young eyes. “I cannot tell them things I do not know.”

“That’s true,” Sandor said with a nod of comprehension. For the first time he felt some real hope. “If your family is safe, even with Hwang’s return, then all I’ve got to do is figure out how to protect you.”

She shook her head and began to say something, but he stopped her.

“Look, you had a plan even before I got there, right? Well I have a plan too. Just trust me.”

She gazed up at him for a long time without speaking. Then she whispered, “I do. I do trust you, Sandor.”

There was nothing more to say. Together they had survived the onslaught in Pyongyang and the flight into Russia. He was certainly not about to surrender her to the grizzly fate Hwang and his compatriots would arrange.

Sandor stared into her unblinking eyes, a shared moment where kissing seemed almost superfluous.

Then he took her in his arms and kissed her anyway.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

BAYTOWN, TEXAS

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, as he prepared to travel south, Sandor told Byrnes he would not leave Washington without a firm commitment that no trade involving Hea would be concluded until he returned. Sandor realized time was running out, but he also knew these diplomatic negotiations never moved quickly. He also banked on the fact that the North Korean government would keep Raabe and Bergenn alive long enough to make the exchange.

Then, just to be sure there was no misunderstanding his position, Sandor took Hea with him to Texas.

It was not easy, doubling back on his way to the airport, gaining access to the safe house under the pretense of needing to speak with the girl again, then taking Hea with him for an imaginary meeting at Langley. It was tougher still at the airstrip, explaining how an unauthorized person was joining their flight south on one of the Agency’s G4s. But Sandor had the respect and confidence of enough of his fellow agents that he was able to talk his way through. Soon he and the girl were in the air on their way to Houston.

“Are you out of your mind?” Byrnes demanded when he learned what happened and was patched through to Sandor on a sat-phone. “This kind of stunt is over the top, even for you.”

By this time the flight was over West Virginia. “I could have her parachute out, sir, you can pick her up in the Smoky Mountains.”

“Stow the sarcasm, Sandor. When you land, you leave that girl on the plane and they’ll bring her back here straightaway. That’s an order.”

“I can use her help down there.”

“You can use her help?” Byrnes’s voice had become an apoplectic garble.

“You okay? Sounds like you’re drowning.”

“Listen to me Jordan, the girl is a foreign national and we cannot be responsible for her safety. On top of that she’s an informant, not a field agent. And she barely speaks English. Even if I could somehow put all of that aside, we need her so we can get Bergenn and Raabe home. This is not open to discussion. You will send her back by return mail, you read me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hea had been able to hear the Deputy Director yelling on the other end and, when the call ended as abruptly as it had begun, she said, “You are in great trouble for bringing me.”

“Not at all.”

She gave a look that said she knew he was lying. “What did Mr. Byrnes say?”

Sandor slouched in his seat. “He wished us good luck,” he told her, then closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

————

As they got farther south the flight became bumpy, early effects of the coming hurricane. By the time they touched down at Ellington Airport, Byrnes had already gotten word to the flight crew as well as his agents on the ground that Hea was to remain aboard. When the plane taxied to a stop the pilot came back and explained. “I have my orders, Mr. Sandor,” he said.

“Me too,” Jordan said. He took Hea by the hand and disembarked, wind whipping around them as they walked down the steps. Two operatives were waiting to greet them. One was a complete stranger to Sandor but the other was an old friend. “What the hell are you doing in Texas?”

“Temporary change of scenery,” Brendan Banahan replied with a grin, then the two men shook hands.

Sandor nodded to the other agent. “So, were you guys sent here to help me or stop me?”

“We’re here to help you,” Banahan said. “But we need to put this young woman on the flight back to D.C.”

“And if I don’t agree? Are you ready to shoot me or what?”

His old friend smiled. “Just one or two in the leg, slow you down a bit.”

“You know what’s going on here?”

“I do. And I know that we need this lady to get Jimmy and Craig home, or at least that’s what Byrnes told me.”

Sandor nodded. “He’s telling you the truth. Problem is, Hea is the reason Craig and Jim are still alive. Not to mention the only reason I’m here. If we send her back to North Korea you can just imagine the warm reception Kim’s going to give her.”

The two agents had a look at the girl, who stood there impassively as they haggled over her fate.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Banahan said.

“I need twenty-four hours,” Sandor told him. “I’ve got my reasons, and you know me well enough to know I’d never hang my own men out to dry.”

“Come on, Jordan, you can see what we’re up against. We have orders.”

“Look at this weather,” Sandor said, pointing up at the cloudy sky. “Probably shouldn’t be flying out of here anyway, right? Take her, hold her, tie her to a post, I don’t care, just give me twenty-four hours before you send her back.”

Banahan shook his head as if someone had just told him something incredibly sad. Then the second agent spoke up, surprising Sandor when he said, “Let me call the Deputy Director. Weather here really is pretty dicey.”

Sandor responded with a curious smile. “Have we met before?”

The man held out his hand and Sandor took it. “I’m Ronny Young. We’ve never met, but I know who you are.”

————

Young pulled out his cell phone and reached Byrnes, who, after offering some loud and uncomplimentary opinions about Sandor’s insubordination and downright disobedience, agreed to the twenty-four-hour moratorium on Hea. “But no excuses after that. If the weather gets worse, you get her back if you have to drive her up here yourself,” the Deputy Director barked at his agent.

Young agreed.

Then Sandor interrupted. “Ask Byrnes if he’s seen the
Times
this morning.”

Young responded with a curious look.

“Here,” Sandor said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out an article from the morning paper. The headline read,

NORTH KOREAN DIPLOMAT RETURNING HOME IN EXCHANGE FOR AMERICAN TOURISTS

Young read the headline to Byrnes, then the lead paragraph:

Government sources have confirmed the planned exchange of a North Korean diplomat, who has been detained in Washington on suspicion of improper activities, for two Americans being held in Pyongyang in connection with violation of their visitor visas.

Sandor could hear Byrnes snorting into the phone on the other line.

“Tell him he doesn’t have to thank me,” Sandor said. He told Hea to stay with Agent Young and hurried off with Banahan, then climbed into a GMC Yukon and sped away.

————

Less than half an hour later their SUV was approaching Baytown. When they reached the refinery they passed through the clearance centers and were escorted to Patrick Janssen’s office.

The former Army colonel introduced himself, had his secretary bring them coffee, then took his seat behind his large, metal industrial desk. “You boys mind if I talk plain?”

“I like plain talk,” Sandor told him.

“That’s good, ’cause for the life of me I can’t figure why Washington would send two spooks to investigate a rumor like this. Forget that phony State Department horseshit you showed me,” he said, referring to their standard credentials. “Look fellas, I get visits from the FBI, Homeland Security, hell, Department of the Interior is up my ass every other week. But two agents from the Company, well, I don’t get that at all.”

Sandor grinned, not even bothering to deny anything the man had said. He had already checked out the various commendations and photos on the walls. Janssen was ex-military and, as Sandor was advised back in D.C., he had already been given a Level 2 clearance for these discussions. Plain talk, as Janssen suggested, was in order. “Whatever these rumors may or may not turn out to be, sir,” Sandor began, allowing the man his rank, “we have reason to believe they’re connected with the downed airliner and the attack on the communications facility in the Caribbean.”

“Communications facility?”

“State of the art. Fort Oscar, which has been portrayed in the media as an essentially defunct old fortress, actually housed a multinational communications linkup.”

Janssen nodded without speaking.

“We have no particulars on the when or the how of another attack, if one is really planned, we only know the where. And that’s here.”

————

Janssen called in the director of IT, who explained their concern about a possible breach of the computers controlling the automated security procedures. As of yet they had not been able to determine the extent of the information obtained or to identify the intruder. They were confident none of the systems had been damaged, but information had definitely been extracted.

Then Janssen told them about the recent disappearance of Peter Amendola.

“How many days?” Sandor asked.

“Going on forty-eight hours. Actually his wife alerted us. He never made it home after his shift night before last. He scheduled some time off or we wouldn’t even know he’d gone missing, at least not yet.”

“Anyone meet with her?”

“Spoke with her on the phone. We were going to see her today, then I heard you guys were coming.”

Sandor nodded.

“For all we know,” Janssen said, “he’s got a girlfriend or he’s off on a bender.”

“You know this guy? I mean, anyone think it’s likely that he’d run off that way?”

“Actually, that’s a negative on both counts. I met him, but don’t actually remember him all that well. We spoke with his coworkers. They say there’s no way he took a flier. Doesn’t even stop for a beer with the boys. Keeps to himself mostly, very buttoned-down.”

Sandor glanced at Banahan. The perfect type for a flip. “All right, have someone call, tell his wife we’re coming over right now. Meanwhile, let’s just do a quick review of your current defense resources, see what we might do to help.”

————

The Amendola home was a modest ranch house on a suburban street west of Hedwig Village. There was nothing unusual about the place, nothing to set it apart from the other homes on the block.

As Sandor and Banahan headed up the walkway Jordan whispered, “I feel like a cop.”

“I know what you mean,” Brendan said.

“Let’s keep this simple.”

Kate Amendola was waiting for them at the front door. She was wearing a plain housedress, had her hair pulled back, and wore no makeup to conceal the tired lines around her eyes. Under other circumstances Sandor figured she might be reasonably attractive, but today she appeared older than her years.

He flashed some federal credentials and she showed them into the living room.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”

“No thank you,” Sandor said. “We’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”

She responded with an odd look, and for a moment Jordan thought she was going to laugh. “My time? Take all the time you want. I have nothing to do but hang around here and worry.”

Sandor gave a short nod. “Well I’ll get right to the point then. I take it this behavior is out of the ordinary for your husband?”